


the great and terrible

by asterismal (asterisms)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Dragon Harry Potter, Gen, Prince Tom Riddle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 03:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21206954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asterisms/pseuds/asterismal
Summary: “If these are the people you seek to rule…” Harry presses himself low to the ground, watches carefully. “Tell me, will all this gold keep the mob from your door? The knife from your back?”The prince lets out a shuddering breath.“No," he says, voice flat, "It won't.” His empty hands are clenched in his lap. When he lifts his eyes to meet Harry’s gaze, theyburn,and it is no longer a king that Harry sees looking back at him. “What will?"A prompt fill for dragon!harry and prince!tom





	the great and terrible

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DarkkBluee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkkBluee/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [DarkkBluee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkkBluee/pseuds/DarkkBluee) in the [October_Flash_Fest_Part_Two](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/October_Flash_Fest_Part_Two) collection. 

> **Prompt:**
> 
> Tom Riddle is a Prince, forced to go Dragon hunting (or robbing) for the gold. Why? Dragons hoard gold, don't they? 
> 
> Enter Harry Potter, Dragon extraordinaire. 
> 
> (Harry is a rich dragon or a poor one. Your choice.)

There’s a human on his mountain.

For just a moment, Harry considers staying where he is. He imagines burrowing himself even deeper under the pile of gold, until he’s so deep that all he can hear is the clink of coins shifting against his scales and the howling of the wind that beats against stone beyond his caves.

It truly is a lovely thought.

And he hasn’t had a nap in years...

Then the human starts yelling.

_ “Come out, foul beast! Come out and face me!” _

With a groan, Harry shakes himself free of his gold, raising his head above the pile to better hear the human’s voice. 

“So loud,” he grumbles.

There’s no way a human could shout so loud, not with their small bodies. Which means this one has at least one spell up their sleeve. Of course they do, Harry thinks. When don’t they?

If Hermione were here, she’d go find the human and give them a piece of her mind. But Hermione isn’t here; she’s off collecting more books for her own hoard, unwilling to limit herself to the so-called _ useless trinkets _ that Harry’s taken to surrounding himself with these days.

Naturally, Ron had followed.

So now it’s just Harry, alone on the mountain. Just Harry and a _ human. _

_ “I command you to come out!” _

And a rude one, at that, Harry thinks. With a huff, all but spitting fire at the insult, Harry shakes his wings free and begins making his way to the surface. This human must want something, or they wouldn’t be here in his cave at such an awful hour, disturbing the peace by making such a racket. Maybe, if Harry asks them to leave nicely, they’ll go peacefully and leave him to his nap.

When he gets close enough to finally see the human, he’s disappointed. 

Apparently he won’t be napping any time soon, because the human has a _ sword._

Swords are always a bad sign.

“What do you want, human?” Harry asks, though he supposes it’s rather obvious. At least he doesn’t fire first and ask questions later like _ some _dragons he knows. 

“I’m here for your gold,” the human says, brandishing their sword as if it could actually hurt him.

Right. Obvious.

“Hmm.” Harry pulls himself to a higher perch, enjoys the way the human flinches as they try to track his movement in the dark. For all that his scales shine deep green in the light, in the dark of his cave he is little more than another shadow. “And why should I give it to you?”

“I—” The human falters. Clearly, they weren’t expecting such a question. Then they recover. “Because if you don’t, I’ll kill you for it.”

“Kill me?” Harry asks, sliding down a wall to a perch that puts him just beyond the light that shines from the human’s blade. If the human looks carefully, they might see his eyes. “For gold?”

“Well, yes.” The human’s sword dips, as if they’re unsure. “That’s why I’m here.”

“To kill me?”

“To take your _ gold.” _

“Of course,” Harry says with a snort. He shifts his wings, and the motion sends a pile of diadems skittering toward the floor of the cave. “Your kind is always looking for gold.”

_“My kind?”_ The human sounds offended. _“Your kind_ are the ones who are always stealing _our_ gold. If you didn’t take it in the first place, we wouldn’t come to get it back!”

That accusation, Harry cannot abide.

“Excuse you,” Harry says haughtily, “ I haven’t stolen anything in years. In fact, most of these pieces you’re trampling all over were _ gifts.” _

“Gifts?” The human kicks at a pile, and the sound of precious metals sliding against each other is pleasing enough that Harry almost doesn’t mind. “From _ who?” _

Harry snorts.

“Certainly not from humans,” he says, launching himself from his perch and knocking the human flat on their back with one powerful gust of his wings before he lands again on the opposite wall. “In fact, they’re from all sorts. Giants, veela, the occasional unicorn.”

The human scoffs. Harry grins, and he knows the human can see his fangs by the way they shift uneasily.

“One time, a phoenix gifted me an entire cavern’s worth of gems.” The human looks skeptical, so Harry continues. “A particularly persistent spider brought me much of what’s in this room.”

“A spider?” they ask, sounding reluctantly intrigued.

“Oh, yes. A big one,” Harry says solemnly. “I think you’d like him. Though I’m not sure he’d like you. He’s not very fond of swords, you see.”

At the reminder of the weapon in their hand, the human turns demanding again.

“Enough of this,” they say with a snarl. “You _ will _give me what I seek.”

Harry sighs.

How tedious. 

With one breath, he sends a billowing flame toward the human, who only just manages to roll out of the way. Before the human can spew another ridiculous threat, he launches forward and, with one sweep of his tail, sends them tumbling toward the cavern wall. Another jet of fire soon follows. 

This time, the human remains in place, and the flames spill across a shield.

Oh, right, Harry thinks. This one has _ spells_.

How fun.

“You won’t stop me,” the human says, panting. They brandish their sword in one hand as the shield blooms from the other. “I _ will _ have your gold.”

Harry rolls his eyes as best he can and retreats to the opposite side over the cavern. Just for a moment, at least. Spells are always so _ troublesome. _

“Why do you even want it?” he asks idly, watching the magic shimmer out of sight. “It’s not as if you could carry it all.”

And anyway, the moment Ron and Hermione hear of his demise (should the human succeed, of course), they’d come roaring back, ready to tear this human and whatever kingdom they’ve come from to pieces. But he doesn’t tell the human that.

“I need it to become powerful,” the human says.

Harry snorts, and the human tenses at the billowing smoke.

“Powerful?” Harry shakes his head, lets out a rumbling laugh. “Look at you, little human. Trembling in my cave. All alone, with no companions to guard your back. All the gold in the _ world _ couldn’t make you powerful.”

“I am not _ little_,” the human says with a growl. It’s a rather pathetic sound. But then, coming from such a small body, it could hardly be anything else.

With another laugh, Harry launches himself from his perch and curls his body around the human, crowding them back against the cavern wall and rising to his full height.

“Aren’t you?” he says, grinning with all his teeth.

The human lifts their sword, and the light grows brighter.

“I am the prince of this kingdom,” the human (the man, apparently) says, “And you _ will _ show me respect.”

“Respect? You came here to kill me,” Harry reminds the prince. The prince shows no remorse. He shows no fear, either. “Well, then. Tell me, little prince. How will my gold make you powerful?”

“With it, I can buy the best armies known to man.”

“And why do you need an army?”

“To take back what is mine.”

“Take back?” Harry rumbles another laugh. “Oh dear. You’re not a prince at all, are you?”

“My father—"

“The king,” Harry corrects. 

“The _king,”_ the prince grits out, “has cast me aside. His advisors have turned him against me.”

“And now you seek to kill him.”

“Yes.”

“So you can take his place?”

_"Yes.” _

“Tell me,” Harry shifts, and a shower of gold scatters across the floor. “What will keep you from the same fate?”

“My army—"

“An army raised on gold alone?” Harry snorts. “You think they will be loyal to you?”

“Loyalty can be bought.”

“Yes, I suppose it can.” Harry shifts his wings, settles into a more relaxed posture. He’s actually starting to enjoy this conversation. Ron would be so disappointed with him. “But then, loyalty bought once can be bought again."

“With the price I will offer—"

“Oh, please, little prince, listen to yourself. Scrambling for the loyalty of men in metal suits, as if they can keep you safe. No, that will not give you power.”

“I will be _ King.” _The prince lifts his sword higher, points it at Harry’s snout, and Harry has to fight not to laugh again. “I will command armies and sorcerers, and no one in the world will be strong enough to kill me.”

Harry snaps his teeth, lets a tongue of flame shine between them.

“I could always kill you now,” he says.

The human smirks, then, looking far too confident for a man facing down a dragon on his own. He pulls a locket from beneath his cloak, and Harry narrows his eyes to see it better. There are runes scrawled across it and glowing with magic.

“No,” the prince says gleefully, lifting the locket higher, letting Harry look closer. “You can’t. As long as I wear this locket, _ nothing _can touch me.”

When Harry finally bends low enough to see the runes, he sighs. It’s almost funny.

It’s mostly pathetic.

“Where did you get this?” he asks, his claws itching for a hunt at such falsehoods. He’s choosing to ignore the fact that the victim in this case is out to kill him.

“From a witch,” the prince says, standing taller, and suddenly Harry sees the king he might have been. “A witch who supports my cause.”

“Oh, little prince,” Harry croons. He lunges forward, gouges his claws into the stone at the prince’s feet, much closer than the locket should have allowed. “Would you like to hear a secret?”

The prince has fallen to the ground, and his sword is shaking in his hand. He watches Harry with wide, fearful eyes. Harry bends closer. 

One snap of his jaws is all it would take, and they both know it.

“Your witch _ lied _to you.”

The prince is already shaking his head.

“No,” he says. He sounds afraid. Devastated. _“No. _ She is loyal. She told me of your hoard. She gave me _ magic. _ She wants me on the throne. They _ all _ want me—”

“You were sent here to die, little prince,” Harry interrupts. 

“No,” the prince gasps out. He’s dropped his weapon, and now his hands clutch at nothing. “It’s not true. It can’t be—”

The prince is shaking, and Harry can’t tell if it’s with rage or sorrow. He hopes it’s the former. Rage is so much more productive.

“If these are the people you seek to rule…” Harry presses himself low to the ground, watches carefully. “Tell me, will all this gold keep the mob from your door? The knife from your back?”

The prince lets out a shuddering breath.

“No," he says, voice flat, "It won't.” His empty hands are clenched in his lap. When he lifts his eyes to meet Harry’s gaze, they _burn, _and it is no longer a king that Harry sees looking back at him. “What will?”

And suddenly, Harry has an _ idea. _

“Shall I tell you another secret, little prince?” he asks. He moves closer, until his breath surely burns the man's fragile skin. The man doesn’t seem to mind.

“Yes,” the prince says, breathless. Desperate.

Harry smiles, baring all his fangs, and says, “I wasn’t always a dragon.”


End file.
